So yeah, just to warn you this is subject to change. My muse is giving me fits over this due to the black eye I gave her recently...don't ask. Anyway, I don't care what she says I'm writing it!
Boring Disclaimer: I do not own Batman the animated series, blah blah blah, whatever, you get the idea.
"Harley! Be a dear and throw me my hammer?" Joker yelled.
Batman groaned, struggling to stand after that last hit. His eyes swept the decrepit old warehouse, knowing Harley could be anywhere.
"Right away Mr. J!" Harley yelled.
Batman's head whipped to the left and his eyes widened, his jaw dropping. Harley skipped into the flickering light, the pom-poms on her hat bouncing madly with each step and the massive wooden hammer clenched in her slender hands.
Joker cackled at the Batman's stunned expression, taking the hammer from Harley with one hand and looping the other around her waist, pulling her close to his side. Twirling the hammer as easily as if it were a baton, Joker ran his hand across Harley's stomach, absentmindedly rubbing her belly with his fingers.
"What's a matter Bat's?" He laughed. "You look like a snake just crawled right up your shorts!"
Cackling like the maniac he was, he let go of Harley and lunged for the Batman, swinging his hammer wildly at Batman's head. It took everything the dark knight had to wrench his gaze away from Harley and duck under the hammer. His fist connected with the Joker's jaw with a satisfying smack. He whipped around, slamming a roundhouse kick into the Joker's stomach.
His breath completely knocked away, the clown prince of crime crumpled to the floor. Wasting no time in handcuffing the clown, Batman scanned the room for Harley, expecting to see her coming at him in an attempt to rescue her boss and lover.
To his surprise and dismay, Harley was nowhere in sight. He stood for a long moment, surveying the ancient warehouse for any sign of her.
He glared silently down at the Joker.
This was all Joker's fault, and yet another life was going to be ruined because of this madman. Frustrated at his inability to do anything to stop it, the dark night grabbed the Joker by the scruff and a massive handful of his purple jacket, dragging the whining and complaining young man out to the waiting bat mobile.
In less than ten minutes he had dropped the Joker off at Gotham Police headquarters, hanging the handcuffed crook by his ankles from the light post out front where he would be impossible for the various cops going in and out of the building to miss.
Exhausted, he turned the car toward the bat cave and home.
The image of the clown popped up in his mind's eye as he drove. He shuddered to think that, had circumstances been different, he could just as easily be the one in the clown makeup.
His mind drifted to what he had seen that night, and it was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his body, settling in the pit of his stomach in a hard cold knot that would not go away.
Alfred was patiently waiting when the bat mobile pulled in.
He would never let Bruce know, but he worried. His master had started his crime fighting career little more than a year ago, and the criminals, the psychos the Batman attracted kept the English butler up at night anxiously waiting for his master, friend, and charge to come home safely.
He had lost track of how many times the dark knight had returned from patrol injured. The idea that a night might come when his young master might not come back at all terrified the Englishman more than he cared to admit.
But tonight he could breathe a sigh of relief. It was hard to tell with that gray and black suit, but so far as he could tell, Bruce had returned unharmed. He paused, frowning. His master seemed more somber than usual.
"Master Bruce? Is something wrong?"
Batman nodded. "Yes Alfred. Something is very wrong."
"Are you injured?" Alfred asked anxiously, his hand already reaching for the nearby first aid kit he always kept well stocked and on hand here in the bat cave.
Batman smiled one of his rare, small smiles. "No Alfred, I'm all right." He sighed and pulled back his cowl, revealing his face to the cool air of the cave. "Do you remember that psychiatrist who busted the Joker out of Arkham back in March?"
Alfred frowned thoughtfully. At the rate the Batman was attracting psycho's, he sometimes found it hard to keep their names straight.
"I seem to remember you speaking about her sir, a Miss Harleen Quinzel I believe you said her name was? If memory serves, she's since become the madman's sidekick, as it were."
Batman nodded. "That's right. I ran into the two of them tonight. Normally when Joker's in trouble, Harley comes flying to his rescue. She was different tonight. She ran."
Alfred raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Sir?"
Bruce met the old man's eyes. "Alfred, Harley's pregnant. The Joker's passed his vile DNA on..."
DUN! Dun! dun! (evil cackle) oh Batman, you have no idea...
Please reveiw and tell me what you think!
Untill next time...